


The Mulligan

by Feffernoose



Series: Illegitimacy [2]
Category: The Binding of Isaac (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:46:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feffernoose/pseuds/Feffernoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some children run from terror, some children embrace it with the fervor that came to be known as bloody lust. Some children learn the hard way that even after escaping from their mothers, the Basement will still destroy them. And some children, fueled with the urge to destroy, learn that they will not always be on the offensive end of a wave of fury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mulligan

Once upon a time, there was a boy, who, just like any other, was terrorized by his mother and forced to hide in the caves under his house. A simple, generic story, it seems, and one could argue that this story is just one of the thousands of warnings to crawl out of The Womb and sit here for us to take heed of. However, it is a story still, and this boy, though a ruffian he was, is still worth our attention. This was not his first time in the caves; in fact, he had often climbed beneath his house to fight the hoards of creatures he found. When he found his mother coming at him with a knife, it didn’t even bother him to take refuge in his old training grounds. He simply locked the trapdoor behind him, and moved on from the life he lived on the surface.

The boy had long ago grown used to the strange creatures he saw under the house, and as a result, ceased to cry at the sight of them. He was strong, and he could extinguish their lives in the blink of an eye. Indeed, for a while, he could do nothing but hide behind rocks and slip through cracked doors, because without tears, he was defenseless against the creatures that he wished to fight. It wasn’t long, however, before this mischievous devil discovered that he had another weapon: urine. Behind a locked door hovered a yellow droplet, and it allowed the boy to make his business everyone’s business. He accepted this power with gusto.

From the open room directly beneath his house, the boy stepped through an open doorway and was met with the sight of four crying, muffin-headed creatures. He smirked, stripped completely naked, and let his stream of justice vanquish the weak. This, it seemed, was “living the dream” for this boy, and let’s face it, who wouldn’t want to spend their days hiding underneath their house, peeing on odd monsters?

The strange monsters that the boy was urinating on soon exploded, leaving a pile of coins behind. Satisfied with his spoils, the boy walked into the next room and found a mirror hanging on a wall. He admired his body in the mirror. This boy, let’s call him Samson for simplicity’s sake, had just turned 14 years old, and, despite his tendency to urinate on monsters living under his house, was beginning to mature into a young man.

Samson frowned. It was happening again. He could feel his penis stiffening. He had no idea why this kept happening, and when it did it usually prevented him from peeing for a while. He sighed, put his clothes back on, and sat in a corner behind a few rocks until his plumbing started to work again.

“This is so fucking boring,” he moaned, ten minutes later. His penis still felt funny, and his bloody lust was starting to shoot through the roof. “I just want to fucking piss my troubles away!” Fed up with waiting, Samson stood up and decided to try to do some exploring without attracting the attention of any enemies. There were plenty of room simply containing piles of coins and minor explosives, and he could certainly find something interesting to play with.

As he explored, Samson thought about his mother. He had barely even wondered earlier why she had been trying to kill him, but now it suddenly occurred to him that killing their sons is not a thing that normal mothers do. Not that he really knew what a “normal mother” was supposed to do. He didn’t have any friends at school—they were all scared of him and his raw power—and he had never been to anyone else’s house. But he was fairly sure that kitchen knifes were just to be used to cut up fried chicken, not cut up beloved, incredibly mature and buff young adults.

Lost in thought, Samson didn’t even notice for a moment that he had just walked into a room packed to the brim with angry, floating heads. He jumped, and scampered into the nearest door, slamming it shut behind him. He panted for a minute, and then looked up. Hovering over a pedestal in front of him was what looked like a dead fly with a blue heart above him. Samson looked behind him—yep, the doorframe was golden. This was a special treasure. What it did, Samson had no idea, but it was obviously something worth getting.

Samson walked over to the floating treasure, and reached out to grab it. Just like always, the item disappeared right as his fingers made contact with it. Suddenly, Samson felt a strange sensation spreading all over his body. He felt… larger, yet shorter. He couldn’t put his finger on the strange sensation. He also couldn’t really get a good look at himself, lacking a mirror. Looking down, however, he did finally notice that his penis had gone back to normal. Now was a perfect time to test out whatever powers the treasure had given him.

Opening the door back up, Samson stepped back out into the open. Growls filled the air around him. The floating heads began to shake, and bright red pellets flew out of their mouths at him. Samson smiled, tore his pants off, and aimed right for the mouth. The first floating head monster in front of him gagged, and exploded.

Smiling, Samson turned to face the next floating monster, and prepared to shoot it down with his piss. However, when he tried to let it out, his penis began to feel funny again. “God fucking damn it,” Samson muttered. He scampered behind a rock, and stared at his dick. “You fucking do as you’re told!” he yelled at his penis.

The strange feeling only increased, and suddenly, Samson started to get a prickling, uncomfortable sensation down there. This had never happened before. Looking down at his genitalia, something looked… wrong. Skin wasn’t supposed to shimmy like that. It almost seemed as if something was alive… inside his penis?

Samson screamed. The head of his penis swelled, and a swarm of flies exploded out of it. The concentrated force of so many flies forcing their way out of such a small opening was agony, and as he looked down, he saw blood starting to force its way out along with the flies. It felt like a hundred knives stabbing him from the inside of a small, sensitive space. He almost passed out from the pain, but knew that if he stayed there, he would die even more painfully.

Samson ran, screaming, out of the room, not even bothering to defend himself. As he passed through the doorframe, a bullet from the nearest floating head monster made contact with his back, and he screamed again. Blood flowed from his back. He tried to stop the flow with his hands, but it was no use. Samson slammed the door shut behind him, and sat with his back pressed up against the wall. It felt uncomfortable and disgusting, but it at least did a little to stop the flow.

Two final flies made their way out of Samson’s penis, and finally, it returned to normal. He breathed heavily, trying to understand what had just happened. It was then that Samson noticed the mirror hanging from the opposite wall.

His body had completely changed. His head was a large, amorphous muffin-looking blob. His eyes and mouth had swelled up in size, while his torso, arms and legs had shrunk down to the size of a toddler’s. He hadn’t even realized that he had begun to cry. Tears streamed down his face, useless, pitiful tears that could never harm a living creature. For the first time in his entire life, Samson cried out of fear.

What seemed like hours passed. Flies buzzed in his ears, whispering to him to run, but he couldn’t. He could not even move. The pain in his back was too intense. But soon, he would have to run. The door beside him suddenly opened, and a boy, approximately 14 years old as well, stepped through it. There was a fierce look on his face, and Samson understood. He knew exactly what was about to happen.

A wave of tears and blood suddenly engulfed Samson’s vision, and he ran. He ran as fast as his stubby legs would allow him. He wanted to fight back, but his only weapon, his urine, was useless to him now. There was no way that he could risk the flies again, risk feeling that pain again. He tried to scream for help, but all that came out was a sad, blubbering noise. There was nothing he could do.

As Samson ran, the boy continued to run circles around him, grinning and shooting more tears and blood at him. Samson had never been so afraid in his life. He was going to die, he knew it, but more than that, it was going to hurt. Blood still dripped from the hole in his back, and he knew that dying would be worse. He was so scared, so utterly and completely scared, so desperately hopeless that he could just EXPLO—


End file.
